


you're better than you know

by hlundqvists



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, New York Rangers, cam has a subtle praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam usually can take a loss in stride, but missing the chance for another shutout against the Canadiens isn't as easy to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're better than you know

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted Cam to get a shutout. This is my attempt at "fix it fic". Aka making myself feel better. With porn. Because, y'know, that usually works.

He'd come so close to achieving that incredible goal again. He'd come so damn close and lost it. There was anger raging inside of him, some aimed at Diaz but the majority of it was at himself. He fucked it all up. He let the shot get in and _fucked it all up_.

No one says much to him, knowing full well to keep their distance. Only a few murmurs of reassurance are sent his way and Diaz is looking at him from across the locker room like he wants to apologize and beg for forgiveness. Cam really doesn't want to deal with that, so he just waves it off. Diaz still seems uncertain but drops his gaze.

The media asks their questions. Cam gives his usual routine answers, powering through it until he can shed off his gear and wash off the sweat and frustration from the game. He's the last one to hit the showers, all the others having peeled off one by one to shower, dress, and leave to gather their stuff back at the hotel for the flight home.

He wants to hit the wall or maybe just drown himself under the warm spray of water as it hits his body. He wants to shout, but he also wants to bottle this frustration up; save it for the playoffs so he'll fight harder than before. Mostly though, he just wants the hurt of the loss to stop. There's a fleeting wish that passes through his mind, cursing the fact that Kreider is still back in New York.

"You can't blame this on yourself, kära."

Henrik's voice breaches into his mind, bringing all of his thoughts to a halt.

"You can't stop me," he hisses back. It's childish, on the side of being pathetic but he doesn't care. He's _upset_. He has a right to be. He's ready to spit out some choice words at Henrik when hands are curling against his hips, a warm body pressing up against his back.

"What are you doing, Hank?"

A chaste kiss is pressed to his right shoulder, Henrik moving his hands around to press against Cam's stomach. "Shh. I talked to Chris. He told me it's okay, he knows you need this."

Cam's breath catches in his throat, turning to look at Hank over his shoulder. "You-- You called Chris?"

Hank nods, leaning in to press a kiss to Cam's jawline. "Yes. Now stop thinking. Stop blaming yourself. You are good. You're _incredible_ , Cameron."

It makes Cam shudder. Praise from Henrik always seemed to do that, whether the words were believed or not. 

He lets him lean back, resting his body against Hank's as more kisses are pressed to his skin. There's a soothing rub of fingers against his stomach as Hank continues to murmur praise softly.

"You've done so much this season, you're amazing. Simply amazing. No one can do what you do."

A gentle nip to the juncture of his neck and shoulder elicits a soft moan.

"You were incredible out there tonight. No matter the outcome, nothing can take that away. Do you know how many saves you made? Saves that _I_ would have missed?"

He wants to protest, to tell Hank that no, no, he would have made all the saves and _more_ but nails are dragging across his stomach and he's shivering against it.

"You did so well, Cameron. Do not let yourself forget that. You can't get caught up in the "what if's". It does not help."

His head is tilted all the way back now, resting against Hank's shoulder. His breath coming in short gasps, which catch in his throat then hitch as Hank wraps a hand around his dick. 

When he got so hard, he doesn't know. Between the praise and the touches, he got lost from reality.

He reaches back to grab at Hank's hips, steadying himself as Hank begins to stoke him slowly. 

"Yes, that's it. Just let yourself go, kära. Let the blame go. Nothing you did was wrong or bad tonight. You were brilliant out there."  


Teeth catch at his earlobe, biting down gently before suckling. He moans loudly, eyes falling shut as he thrusts forward into Hank's grip. There's a laugh being pressed to his flesh, more kisses trailing down his neck.

"That's it, baby. You're so good out there and you're so good in here. So beautiful. So perfect."

He can feel Hank's dick pressing to his ass and he rocks back against it, getting a sense of joy at hearing the man's breath catch a little. Hank starts to stroke him faster, thumb flicking over the head of his dick with every upstroke. 

His breath is coming faster now, fingers grabbing painfully tight at Hank's hips. "Please..." It's the first word he's spoken this started, coming out a little choked.

"Not until you say it, Cameron."

Hank doesn't slow his pace, stroking Cam and sucking on his neck. "You know what I want to hear. You know Chris would want to hear it, too. He'll make you say it when we get back to New York."

Cam shudders, trying to choke off a moan.

"Mm, if only Chris was here right now. We could both be working you together. Or maybe.... maybe he'd be on his knees in front of you, letting you use his mouth while I touch you where it counts."

It's too much to take. A whimper falling loudly from Cam's lips as he rocks himself back against Hank in a desperate motion. "Fuck, _fuck_. Hank, _please_. Please. I k-know. I know it's not my fault. It's not my fault."

"Good. Good boy."

A kiss is pressed to his jaw, followed by a murmur. "Now. You can come now, Cameron."

Hank's strokes him faster, once, twice, three times before flicking his thumb over the head of his dick and that's all it takes. Cam cries out as he comes over Hank's hand, body going lax and pulse seeming to falter for a split second.

He doesn't seem to come back completely to reality until he hears Hank grunt against his ear and realizes that the hand that had been touching him was gone and within seconds, he feels a warmth against his ass as Hank comes with a low groan.

Cam turns then, bringing Hank's hand up to his lips to lick it clean before leaning in for a hungry kiss. They both groan into it, pressing against each other and when they finally break apart, neither wants to let go of the other.

Hank gives a small smile, brushing a hand up Cam's side.

"Feel better?"

Cam nods, then kisses Hank's nose softly. "Yeah. Thanks."

He shivers a bit, realizing that the water has run cold. "We really should get cleaned and go. The guys are going to start wondering where we are."

Hank smiles a little more and kisses Cam a final time, softly and lingering. "They know I had to take care of our goalie." He pauses, then adds. "You really shouldn't blame yourself, Cam. I mean that."

"I know." Cam smiles slowly, running a hand through his wet hair before grabbing some soap to start rinsing off with.

He lets a comfortable silence build between them as they clean each other off, only speaking once they finish and start to dry off.

"Hey, next time we need to make sure Chris can join us. He has an _amazing_ mouth."  


Hank groans and whacks him lightly with a towel for that. Cam just laughs and feels lighter than he has all night.

They're going to rock the playoffs. He can finally feel it now.


End file.
